


Sanctuary

by Kyra_Bane



Series: Kinktober 2020 [The Old Guard] [12]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Bad Quynh | Noriko, Comfort, Cunnilingus, F/F, Immortal family, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Like Way Post-Canon, Post-Canon, Rare Pairings, They don't like each other, Vaginal Fingering, everyone else is mentioned - Freeform, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27067546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyra_Bane/pseuds/Kyra_Bane
Summary: Nile’s had a really, really bad week.Of course, things could always be worse – and it seems like they might be when Quynh turns up at her very remote, very well-hidden cabin. It’s not as though their last few meetings have gone well.Only, Quynh has problems of her own. However, she’s not looking for help. She’s looking for sanctuary.
Relationships: Nile Freeman/Quynh | Noriko
Series: Kinktober 2020 [The Old Guard] [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930153
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> kinktober prompt uh 11 😅: comfort
> 
> thanks to an anonymous tumblr ask; request was "comfort for Nile/Quynh? 🤭maaaybe angsty (regarding Andy's loss) or just cute and fluffy depending on what you're feeling!"
> 
> guess WHAT WE'VE GOT

It’s been a shitty, shitty week. 

They’re all back together now, the whole gang – minus Andy, of course, the quiet ache in Nile’s chest that won’t ever go away, even if it’s been a decade or two. Booker’s just about got his shit together. Joe and Nicky are Joe and Nicky, which means she worries about them precisely as much as she has to, with the odd caveat that one or the other might just turn up on her doorstep occasionally, spend the night and they don’t ever talk about the issue but she has alcohol and a great TV, so that and her presence seems to do the trick.

Generally, things have been good. Steady. The world still sucks, some of the time, but she’s keeping them on point in an attempt to make things better. 

This week, though? This week’s been a mission that was fucked up from the start, getting shot more than once, which she still doesn’t appreciate, thanks very much, and she’s tired and angry and not even certain they did much _good._

So when her alarms go off, alerting her to the fact that someone’s stumbling up the driveway of her _very_ remote, _very_ well-hidden cabin, Nile grabs her gun and mutters every curse she can remember.

There’s more than a few. They increase in ferocity when she sees _who_ is coming toward her front door.

Quynh.

Because this shitty week just _had_ to get worse, didn’t it?

For a second or two, Nile considers calling the others. After all, it’s been a while since they all last saw Quynh, and she killed Booker twice after Andy’s funeral, once because she said he breathed funny, and Nile likes her odds in a fight most of the time, but perhaps not today.

Then she sees that Quynh’s alone. 

Alone and covered in blood.

Something icy rushes through her veins; because she may hate Quynh, may despise the way she operates, the way she ripped back into their lives and stole Booker away, tried to coax Andy into the darkness she had been forced into – but she doesn’t want _this._

The doorbell chimes, a soft, tinkling thing that Joe had chosen when Nile had the system installed. She doesn’t let go of her gun but she does rush to the camera, just to see–

Quynh smiles into the lens, and there’s blood all over her, on her clothes, streaked across her face, but Nile can tell immediately that it isn’t all _hers_ and she lets out a heavy breath. Takes a second, to regain her equilibrium.

“What do you want?” she says into the mic and Quynh doesn’t flinch back. Five hundred years in the ocean, a few decades back on land and she’s rolling with the punches, Nile has to give her that.

“Let me in, Nile,” she coos, and Nile rolls her eyes.

“No.” She’s already checking the other cameras, every inch of the cabin covered, all the way out to the road, and maybe now would be the time to call the others, actually; not that they could do much, they all scattered after the mission, but at least if Quynh _takes_ her, they’ll know.

“Nile, please.” Something serious in Quynh’s voice has Nile looking back to her face. 

Cameras are a marvel nowadays and hell, it’s not like she grew up in the fucking eighteen-whatevers; she’s always known pretty good tech, but the images now are almost like seeing Quynh in the flesh, inches apart, and _the point is,_ she can’t blame the camera for tricking her eyes when she thinks Quynh looks… concerned.

There’s no one else around, not that Nile can tell, anyway, and she’s getting good at that now. Just the two of them – which means nothing because Quynh’s never been shy about killing them – but this is Nile’s home and she knows where she hides all her weapons.

“What do you want?” she says again.

“Sanctuary,” Quynh replies.

Nile makes sure the mic is off before she sighs, heavily. There’s a mantra repeating over and over in her head: _you can’t trust her, you can’t, you can’t_ and she’s not sure whose voice it is – maybe Booker’s? – but she knows that if she turns Quynh away now and Quynh is _really_ in trouble, well – Joe and Nicky won’t hate her, for sure, but they’ll be a little sad and quiet and disappointed for a while.

They knew her, after all, before. It’s never stopped either of them hitting back when she’s struck first, but Nile knows they want her safe.

“Goddamnit,” she mutters to herself, before she slams her hand down on the button that unlocks the front door. It leads into a small, self-contained room – she’s safety-conscious, and Nicky had insisted – and Quynh waits in there with her hands clasped very neatly behind her back. 

There’s something about her gaze. The door between her and Nile is made of tempered glass; bulletproof, knife proof, you name it. She meets Nile’s eyes once, but then looks away, too fast.

Nile sighs again. She leaves Quynh there, sees the way Quynh’s head turns to follow her, out of the corner of her eye, and fetches a towel from the small cupboard in the bathroom. Quynh’s covered in blood, after all, and she keeps her house neat. 

She comes back and Quynh schools her expression, just not quite in time. Nile lets her see that she noticed and then hits the button to open the inside door. 

It swings open and they both stand there, assessing each other. Nile knows how many weapons she has within arm’s reach. She thinks she might manage to get the drop on Quynh, at least once. 

But Quynh doesn’t move. She just stares at Nile, her mouth set in a hard line, now, and then her shoulders start to shake, a gentle tremble. Nile extends her hand, offers the towel. 

“Go wash up at least,” she says. “Bathroom’s down the hall.”

Quynh takes one step into the cabin, two, but she doesn’t take the towel. Nile resists the urge to roll her eyes. Is she going to be difficult about _this_ now – God, she drives Nile up the fucking wall most of the time, but as if she’s going to turn up looking scared and then not even bother to do the _one thing_ she ought to…

She telegraphs the move, which should tell Nile something, but Nile just reacts on instinct, grabbing the punch Quynh throws and then spinning them both, so she has Quynh pinned against the wall next to the door. Quynh gasps out a breath at the force of it, when she hits the wood, and Nile is surprised when she doesn’t struggle. 

“For fuck’s sake, Quynh,” Nile snaps. “Either shower or get out because I really don’t have the energy to deal with your shit today.”

Quynh’s still shaking, though, minute trembling under Nile’s hands and Nile eases up and off. She watches Quynh again for a moment and then moves to snatch up the towel again.

The second lunge she doesn’t see coming, and Quynh tackles her, has Nile flat on her back in an instant. Nile shifts to throw her off, cursing her own sentimental naivety in her head, but then Quynh slants her mouth over Nile’s and Nile is too shocked to do anything, too shocked to move.

It takes Quynh a second to notice but then she lifts up, her brow creased in confusion. “I–”

Nile relaxes, just a little. Quynh doesn’t look moments away from killing her, not right now. “What’s going on in your head?” she asks because Quynh acts on a lot of whims, sure, but not without thinking about the consequences first.

“I thought, I–” Quynh goes silent, bites her bottom lip. “I am not sure,” she says.

“Okay.”

“I died today.”

“I died yesterday. You don’t see me tracking you down to scare the shit out of you and try and make out.”

“I died _a lot,”_ Quynh clarifies and then closes her eyes, lets out a shuddering breath that Nile recognises.

Probably as many times as she did, then. “And you came here, because…?”

“Because I knew you would let me in. I knew they would not find me here.” She swallows. “And I wanted...”

“You wanted?”

“Someone who would care for me.”

Nile wants to ask her how she could _possibly_ believe that would be the case, because Nile barely knows her beyond stories she cajoled out of Andy, stories Andy offered up towards the end, when Quynh was back and spitting fire, and they all knew Andy’s shattered heart was breaking over and over again.

But.

But, she let her in, didn’t she? She’d been scared, when she thought Quynh might be dying, _truly_ dying, as well. 

Because as much as they can hurt each other and hate each other, ultimately, they only have each other.

“Let me up,” Nile says and Quynh sits back on her knees. Nile sits up and they stare at each other for a long moment.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” Quynh says. “They–”

Nile holds up a hand. “I don’t want to hear about what happened, not unless you’re bringing trouble to my door. Are you?”

“No. They all believe I am dead.”

“Okay. Then, what do you want?”

Quynh’s eyes slide over her and, for a moment, the faint tremor stops. “You.”

Nile tilts her head to one side. It’s both true and it isn’t, and something clicks into place in her mind, some days when Andy had gone missing, when she had looked pale and haggard in the mornings and returned later – hours, days, weeks – looking settled and sad and more inclined to talk about her past.

It had happened less and less as she had aged, Nile assumes not for her or Quynh’s lack of interest, but for the danger Quynh posed to her by the end. Nile had known, all along, that they had loved each other, that the love had twisted over time, drowned with Quynh over and over, died with Andy each time, but she had not realised, until now, that it had done more than simply… endure.

She considers that, briefly, then considers what she’s about to do, and then she gets to her feet. She has the towel in one hand; she extends the other out to Quynh.

“Come on,” she says, when Quynh hesitates. “Up.”

Quynh puts her hand in Nile’s and Nile pulls her to her feet, then presses the towel toward her. 

“Right, first things first, you are going to shower. And then, you’ll let me know what you want, okay?”

Quynh takes the towel but she doesn’t let go of Nile’s hand. “I can’t… Will you…”

She won’t say it. Nile doesn’t want to make her; that seems unnecessarily cruel. 

“Alright.”

She leads Quynh into the bathroom. It’s small; the cabin itself isn’t huge but Nile likes it this way, cosy. She puts down the toilet seat, sits Quynh there, still clutching the towel, and then putters around, turning on the water, making sure she has the nice shower gel. 

Quynh’s eyes are on her and her skin prickles. 

When everything’s set up, Nile turns to her. “You want me to…”

“Stay,” Quynh says, too fast, and her eyes slide away again. 

Nile doesn’t want to ask what happened, she really doesn’t, but she thinks it must have been _bad,_ for Quynh to be this out of it. That, or– It’s been a while since Andy died, and they’ve seen her maybe three times, between the four of them, since the funeral.

Maybe she’s just lonely.

Quynh stands, dropping the towel to the floor.

She starts unbuttoning her shirt slowly and Nile just watches because she doesn’t want to move without knowing, for sure, what Quynh wants. She’s not going to ask if Quynh’s sure or if it’s a good idea – she’s not going to insult Quynh, for one, and she already knows it’s a terrible idea, it doesn’t need clarification.

The blood’s soaked through her shirt, leaving her skin smeared with red and when she drops it to the floor, Nile thinks, absently, that she’ll have to lend Quynh some clothes too, when she leaves. She doesn’t know how Quynh got here – how she even knew _here_ existed – but Quynh kicks off her boots, unzips her jeans, and she’s not going to answer the questions now so Nile doesn’t see the point in asking.

Instead, she watches Quynh slide off her jeans, pull off her socks, until she’s standing there in only her underwear, not self-conscious about it at all.

“Do you want me in the room, or…?” Nile jerks her head toward the shower and Quynh nods. Alright, she can do that.

Nile pulls her t-shirt over her head, shimmies her sweats off her hips. She’s not wearing underwear; she’d been expecting a quiet day, _alone,_ and Quynh’s eyes widen at the sight of her. She fumbles for the clasp of her bra and Nile steps into her space, spins her around.

Quynh clings to the edge of the sink and Nile unfastens her bra, lets Quynh shrug it off. She flicks the waistband of Quynh’s panties, once, then steps back and away. 

“Join me when you’re ready,” she says.

She turns her back when she’s under the spray and maybe _this_ is the least thought-out moment of this entire scenario, but then Quynh steps in behind her, hands curling around Nile’s hips as she plasters herself against Nile’s back.

Quynh kisses the back of Nile’s neck and Nile sighs.

“Gotta get the blood off first,” she says and Quynh’s fingertips dig in for a moment before she lets go.

Nile squeezes shower gel onto a loofah, turns so she can move it in gentle circles over Quynh’s skin. Quynh just watches her – eyes roaming, sure – and she’s so unabashed about it that Nile feels her blood heat. Quynh’s very attractive, of course, but it’s not as though Nile has ever thought of her that way. She’s been a constant threat, after all.

But her gaze lingers on Nile’s throat, her breasts, the curve of her hip, and Nile follows the path of the loofah with her fingers, lets the pad of her thumb run over one of Quynh’s nipples.

Quynh’s lips twitch. Every second of touch seems to bring her back to herself. She reaches out as the loofah dips below her bellybutton, catching Nile’s wrist.

“Let me,” she says, and Nile hands it over. Quynh reaches past her for the shower gel, pours it on, and then she’s moving closer and, as she moves the loofah down Nile’s left side, her lips follow on her right.

The loofa swipes down Nile’s throat and so does Quynh’s tongue. Over a shoulder, and Quynh nips at the skin beneath her mouth, making Nile gasp. Down over her breast; Quynh takes a nipple into her mouth and Nile tangles her hand in Quynh’s hair without thinking about it. 

Quynh’s eyes flick up to hers but she says where she’s put, biting and sucking until Nile’s breathing harshly. The loofah drops to the floor and Nile pulls her off, up, and their kiss is messy, violent, but Nile doesn’t care anymore.

She pushes Quynh back against the shower stall, knees her legs apart and Quynh tears her lips away to laugh. Nile doesn’t care. She bites down Quynh’s throat – she likes the redness against her usually-pale skin; it’s healthier than the red that was there earlier – and when Quynh starts rubbing herself against Nile’s thigh, Nile just presses against her harder.

“Why did you come here?” Nile asks, grabbing Quynh’s ass in both hands. Quynh holds onto Nile’s shoulders and her fingernails are drawing blood, Nile’s sure, but she’s focused on the way Quynh’s rolling her hips, the fact that she wants Quynh’s mouth on her.

“None of the others could give me _this,”_ Quynh hisses and bites Nile’s bottom lip. Nile pulls her leg away, which makes Quynh almost stumble, eyes flashing up to Nile’s, confused, but then she gets her hand between them, rubs along Quynh’s lips and clit before she plunges a finger inside.

Quynh stretches, mutters, “Yessss,” and Nile doesn’t see the point in being gentle about it. She won’t break, so she adds a second finger and fucks her mercilessly, using her other hand to rub over Quynh’s clit. Quynh still clings to her, though one hand has gone soft, petting at Nile’s shoulder, and their foreheads are pressed together; they’re panting into each other’s mouths.

Something in Quynh’s expression shifts, breaks, just before she comes, and Nile kisses her, pressing against her to keep her upright as she shakes. She still has two fingers inside her, thrusts them in and out lazily, and Quynh shudders but doesn’t tell her to stop. 

It takes a while to build, the second time around, and Quynh makes soft, pained noises as Nile kisses along her jaw. She sucks one of Quynh’s nipples into her mouth, adds a third finger. Quynh squirms but pushes back against her and Nile bets if she just kept her hand there, Quynh would fuck herself to completion, no help necessary.

Except, she does need help, doesn’t she? She came to Nile for help. 

Nile kisses her again, then presses her back against the shower wall again, her forearm across Quynh’s chest. Quynh’s eyes darken at that, and the twitch of her lips has transformed itself into a sharp grin. 

The water’s gone cold but neither of them cares; they’re staring at each other as Nile shoves her fingers in fast, deep, grinding the heel of her hand against Quynh’s clit, and then Quynh’s head falls back, hard enough that it has to have hurt, and she moans as she comes again.

For a moment, they’re both still, Quynh trying to catch her breath, and then Nile lets go, steps back under the freezing spray. Quynh’s still got blood on her, though less than before; her cheeks are flushed, eyes half-lidded. 

Nile turns away from her and only startles a little when Quynh presses up against the length of her back again. She tilts her head to one side and Quynh kisses down her neck, over her shoulder. 

“Out,” she says and Nile nods. 

She steps out of the shower, towels herself off and grabs a fresh one out of the cupboard for Quynh. When she gets out, finally clean, she accepts it with a grateful smile and wraps it around her body before she takes the other out of Nile’s hands to pat at her hair.

Nile shivers; she’s completely naked and she could get another towel but Quynh’s eyes have her pinned in place.

Plus, she figures, at least if Quynh kills her now it’s not another outfit ruined. 

Quynh doesn’t seem inclined to that, however. She tosses her still-damp hair over her shoulder and crowds Nile back against the sink. Their mouths are tantalisingly close but Quynh doesn’t kiss her; instead, she skims Nile’s sides with her hands, squeezes her hips until Nile widens her stance.

When she drops to her knees, Nile grips the ceramic. Even with Quynh as needy as she was when she entered, Nile hasn’t been able to imagine this, but now Quynh lifts her head, licks over Nile where she’s wet and warm and _wanting_ and Nile lets out a shuddering breath.

Quynh doesn’t take it slowly; there’s no easing her in. She knows Nile’s close and she licks along her, sucks her clit, laps up everything she can get. She’s got her hands on Nile’s ass, squeezing and pinching, and when Nile grinds down against her, she gets a wink in return.

Fuck, but Nile can’t help herself. She keeps her hands firmly where they are but starts pushing back, until Quynh stills her own movements, lets Nile ride her face. There’s no room left in her head for what will come after this, what she’ll do next time she sees Quynh, whether Quynh will keep coming back to her for this, now… All she’s focused on is how good this feels, and then Quynh stills her hips, presses the flat of her tongue to Nile’s clit before she sucks again, _hard,_ and Nile cries out, shaking, and her orgasm flows right through her.

Her knees buckle but Quynh gets to her feet, holds her up by pressing their bodies together, and she doesn’t kiss her but for a moment Nile thinks she might. Neither moves until Nile’s breathing normally again, and somehow her hands have found their way to Quynh’s waist.

“Bed,” she says and Quynh looks at her, one eyebrow raised.

Still, she shrugs amiably and Nile leaves her there to wash her face. A few minutes later, Quynh joins her under the covers, nestling up against her back. 

Perhaps _this_ is the worst idea of it, but Nile falls asleep anyway.

When she wakes, it’s full-dark and Quynh is gone. Nile knows it as soon as she opens her eyes – that she’s nowhere else in the cabin – even as the space behind her is warm.

The gun she keeps stashed under the bed is gone, too, but it’s the only weapon that’s missing. 

Quynh’s bloodied clothes are folded in a neat pile, with the towels they dropped in the bathroom, on top of the closed toilet seat. Nile pulls her sweats and t-shirt back on and goes to her cameras.

She sees Quynh left about fifteen minutes before. On the tape she stops, outside the doors, and turns to give Nile a coquettish little wave. 

Nile sighs, and smiles, and changes every code in her security system. She checks every door, every window, and takes one of the other guns to the bedroom with her, stores it within easy reach.

She lies there for a while and decides, in the end, not to tell the others. It’s not quite the same as Andy never telling them – she suspects Joe and Nicky, at least, knew – but if she’s only endangering herself, she doesn’t see the harm.

She doesn’t see the harm if she thinks she was never in danger.

She doesn’t sleep until sun peeks through the curtains the next morning and her last thought is that, should the opportunity arise, she’ll probably do the same thing again. 


End file.
